


The 12 Days of Sherlock

by LillyRose123 (PenguinLover1098)



Category: Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9066982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinLover1098/pseuds/LillyRose123
Summary: This has probably been done before, but... oh well.(Constructive criticism is appreciated!!)





	1. Day 1

No One's Pov

Sherlock groaned when he heard the smoke alarm batteries go off in the middle of the night. He glanced at his alarm clock and found that it was three in the morning. Sherlock groaned again. Why him? Why couldn't John be awake for this? Sherlock decided to let the alarm beep.

And beep.

And beep.

And beep.

Eventually Sherlock guesssd he had to get up. Running to grab batteries, he ran to John's toolbox. He grabbed the batteries and replaced them.

Sighing, he waited.

And waited

And waited.

The alarm didn't shut up.

"Come on," he growled angrily. "What's the problem?"

He really didn't have the time, energy, or even patience for this situation. Glancing at John (who had fallen asleep on the couch after a long night of tv) he decided he needed help. Suddenly he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye- John had crossed his legs in his sleep.

Meaning?

He would be waking up soon to stretch.

Quickly and quietly, he tiptoed over to John and shook him.

"John," he whispered.

The alarm was still blaring - no way he'd ever possibly hear him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

He started to get mad - why couldn't he just get one decent night's sleep in this place? Something or someone was always interrupting him. 

Wether it be Moriarty, Microft, John, or Ms. Hudson with late night cleaning requests, something always interrupted his beauty rest. Maybe it was time for a change.

A big change.

No, he decided. He couldn't go there. He wouldn't go there. What about John, Ms.Hudson, Mary...

No. He refused to leave his friends.

Sherlock growled in frustration.

This was his problem - he made friends everywhere so he couldn't do anything about his situations.

Sherlock shook himself.

'Stop thinking about it,' Sherlock scolded himself.

He decided to wake John up while he had the opportunity.

"JOHN!" He yelled. John's eyes shot open and he fell out of bed.

"What the bloody hell Sherlock!?" John screamed back.

"Help me!" Sherlock shook John's houlders desperately and pointed to the alarm. He was running out of energy in three, two, one...

John saw the problem immediately.

Over the years, Sherlock had taught him to analyze situations like this.

Actually, John saw two problems.

One was the alarm, the other, his extremely tired and stressed out best friend.

He took the batteries from Sherlock and replaced it with a thermometer.

"You're sick," John said. "Take your temperature and go back to bed. I've got the alarm."

Sherlock smiled and fell asleep with the thermometer in his mouth.

"ThanksJohn."

John sighed, but smiled. Sherlock had mumbled his sentence so he almost couldn't hear him, but he had the thermometer in his mouth and he knew it was a genuine thank you.

He knew Sherlock stressed himself out much too frequently, one of the many causes of his sickness. John took out the old batteries and put in the new one.

The alarm still didn't turn off.

"Stupid - why won't you shut up!?" He yelled. Then he groaned, now knowing how Sherlock felt.

He felt prepared to fix an alarm but he knew he wasn't medically prepared to take care of a sick friend.

John needed help.


	2. Day 2

No One's POV

John took the thermometer out of Sherlock's mouth and took his temperature. He almost feared what it would be, knowing Sherlock never took great care of himself.

"105. 4."

John sighed, almost as if he'd expected it to be that high.

"John, what are you doing?"

John realized that he was staring at Sherlock.

"Uh hum ... just taking your temperature." 

John smiled innocently. 

Or as innocently as one could when one was practically straddling his best friend.

"Get off me John."

John crawled off and sighed.

"So what *cough* am I?" 

Sherlock looked at John.

"Huh?"  
"What's my temperature Johnathan? Or were you just straddling me like I thought?"

"105.4."  
"Oh."  
"I'm not letting you."  
"What do you want to do then? Let him win?" Sherlock snapped.

"I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Hello? John?" 

"Dad!?"

Sherlock would have out of bed but John kept him down.

"In here Mr.Holmes!" John called.

"John, you don't know what you just did." Sherlock yawned. He kept yawning until his eyes started to flutter close. Eventually Sherlock's world went black as he fell asleep again.

Sherlock's eyes fluttered open a few hours later.   
"Morning." 

There was a man was above him, smiling down at him. 

"Dad, what are you doing here?"


End file.
